


Forty-eight Hours

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Children, F/M, Family, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-28
Updated: 2008-04-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 15:57:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14793525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Two days in the life of the Reeves family





	Forty-eight Hours

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: CJ/Danny, CJ/OMC, Danny/OFC.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alternative universe, total fantasy (or is it?)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spoilers through end of series; possible spoilers for \"Holding Hands on the Way Down\"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Feedback and criticism always welcomed.  


* * *

**October 22, 2016; mid-afternoon; Kensington, CA**

“Umph!”

Paul turned around at the sound of the grunt coming from CJ’s mouth and smiled involuntarily at the sight that met his eyes.

His wife was painting the dining room walls below the chair rail. Right now, she was working on the baseboard and in an attempt to get a smooth finish, her head was down at floor level. The resulting view of CJ’s backside, covered by a pair of denim cut-off shorts, was extremely pleasing.

For some reason, his mind travelled back some forty years, to the summer between his senior year in high school and his freshman year at Dartmouth.

His paternal grandfather’s family was having a reunion weekend in Binghamton; Paul, his brother Alex, and his cousin Gary, who worked for IBM in Endicott, had just entered the kitchen of Gary’s house. The afternoon was young, but Gary was already working on his second six-pack and was beginning to feel no pain.

Serena, Gary’s wife of six months, was bending over an open oven, testing the cake layers she was baking.

“Hey there, sweetcheeks!” Gary walked up behind his wife and lightly smacked her butt.

“Gary!” Serena straightened up and turned around quickly. “What the hell?”

“A woman stands like that, she’s asking for one of two things,” Gary replied, “and I’ll save the other for later.”

“Don’t be taking any bets on later,” Serena replied.

Paul heard anger in her voice, but the look in her eyes combined hurt and embarrassment.

In later years, Paul knew that the scene in his cousin’s house was not the single defining event that led to his refusal to ever consider hitting a woman, not matter how lightly, no matter how much in jest, but he knew that it was one of several incidents that reinforced that decision over the intervening years.

It wasn’t a stern moral disapproval. Paul knew of many couples where “love pats” were an accepted part of the relationship. His mind flew from southern upstate New York and forty years ago to Washington DC and the spring of ’12, to the party at Rick and Ginger’s where CJ and Danny announced that they were expecting another child, to the time right before the blood tests that forever altered the universe for Danny, for CJ, and for himself.

CJ had just finished telling a slightly embarrassing story about Danny and a hedge trimmer. “Show some respect, woman!” Danny had playfully growled and moved his hand toward CJ’s fanny. CJ, in turn, had laughingly moved out of the path of his arm, making some comment about a man who would smack a pregnant woman and everyone joined in the laughter. Then Donna made some comment about Josh’s lack of gardening skills. That time, the hand of the husband did make contact with the rear end of the wife. Donna’s sharp “Josh-u- **AH!** ” and her glare were also met with laughter, but it was clear to everyone that there would be some serious apologizing in the Lyman townhouse later that evening. No one other than Paul noticed the one woman in the group with the somewhat hungry look in her eyes, nor the smile on her lips when the man standing behind her whispered into her ear. It takes all kinds, Paul mused, and over his years in ministry, he had counseled several couples who partook in such activity behind closed doors.

So now, standing on a ladder and holding the X-Acto © knife he was using to trim the wallpaper around the dining room window, Paul had no desire to slap at the bottom that was so inadvertently but also so saucily presented to him.

However, he did feel a pleasant tightening in his groin as he realized that he did want to kneel behind her, to run his hands down those hips, to move those hands together over CJ’s buttocks, to slip his hands under the shorts and the panties beneath and push the clothing down to her knees, to lower his zipper and to slide slowly and carefully into her softness while planting warm kisses interspersed with words of love on her neck, ears, and shoulders.

Which would be a very nice interlude if they were alone in the house. However, Paddy, Caitlin, and Dansha were in the family room, under the watchful eye of Brittany Roddick. When Paul last took a bathroom break, Dansha was staring at the television with a slightly puzzled look (it was a PBS special on the Kennedys), Paddy was playing tug-of-war with Jasmine, and Caitlin was showing Brittany her small collection of Barbie dolls and attendant paraphernalia. Paul sensed that twelve year old Brittany was excited over her first “paying job” and at the same time, enjoying the dolls that were probably still a part of her life.

The “paying” had been a small issue. When Paul and CJ approached Brittany and her parents about having the girl keep an eye on the kids and taking care of their needs while they were working on the dining room, Paul said that of course they would pay the going rate for teenaged babysitters in the neighborhood. Brittany’s father responded that there would be no need to pay his daughter. (“She’ll be glad to do it, I mean, it’s not as if it was real babysitting. Brittany would just be sitting around the house reading, watching TV and talking with her friends anyway so why pay her for doing the same thing at your place?” Adam laughed.) However, Paul won the argument (as he usually did), earning him a grateful smile from the young pre-teen.

“Dad?”

For that matter, not only were they not alone in the house, they were not alone in the room. Derrick had come up for the weekend to help with the dining room makeover. He was holding a strip of paper, ready for it to be fitted into place.

The paper pattern was a stripe, shades of teal ranging from a medium greenish blue to a pale ice, so it was just a matter of getting it on the edge and plumb vertical; there was no need to line up a horizontal pattern. Following behind Paul and Derrick, the paint CJ was using matched one of the middle shades in the spectrum of the paper.

Paul took the sheet of paper from his son, positioned it, and smoothed it into place. This was the last piece that would have to be fitted around the window. Three more feet on this wall and the job would be done. Then they would help CJ with the painting. Another coat of paint tomorrow and they could get the furniture back into the dining room on Monday.

Paul had told his son although he, CJ, and the kids were always glad to see Derrick, there was no need to use up a day of his annual leave and stay until Monday afternoon. Paul could always ask Lee Hotchkiss to help him with the china cabinet, the credenza, the area rug, and the table.

“Surely you have better uses for your vacation, son.”

Derrick reminded his father that he **had** taken time for himself. Two weeks ago, he had taken a four-day weekend to fly up to Cleveland in order to attend Homecoming at Oberlin. Thanksgiving week, he would be flying up to Alaska to visit with Deborah and Tom.

“Plus, I need to hang around so I can get one of the bottles that Ash is bringing with her tomorrow,” Derrick laughed.

Danny Concannon’s younger niece was coming over from St. Andrew’s with her advisor. They would be taking part in a symposium at the Psychology department at Berkeley. Aisling would be arriving tomorrow, staying with them for the week. And she would be bringing over several bottles of the MacDonald pot-still whiskey that Paul and Derrick had come to appreciate very much.

Forty-five minutes later, Paul was rolling up the last scraps of paper and gathering up the papering tools.

CJ stood up and stretched, sighing contentedly as she arched backward, her hands on the small of her back.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Paul walked over to his wife, taking in the sight of her in the cutoffs, one of his old undershirts, and a triangular bandanna tied gypsy style over her hair.

“You’ve got a smudge,” Paul said as he wiped a drop of paint from her nose.

“And you’ve got paper schmutz.” CJ smiled up at Paul and ran the tip of her thumb over his mustache. Smiling back at her, Paul kissed the base of her thumb as it moved across his upper lip.

For the moment, at least, they’ve forgotten that I’m here, Derrick thought to himself. He had moved the ladder to the open arch between the dining room and the family room and was painting the woodwork.

Earlier, Derrick had noticed the hungry look on his father’s face when the man was staring at CJ kneeling on the floor and had hurriedly looked away. Derrick did not want to been seen observing what should be a private moment between a couple.

Derrick also did not want to start experiencing the same feelings his father was experiencing and the picture his stepmother presented was, in a word, erotic. And erotic feelings were something Derrick needed to avoid at the present time.

Derrick was still actively looking for the woman he could love the way his father had loved his mother and now loved CJ. He had dated five women since joining the Hollis staff on Cal Poly’s campus, so he was having the same type of social life as he had had since leaving Columbus for Oberlin. However, except for one weekend in April, he had not bedded any of those women, and **that** was not situation normal for Derrick Reeves.

Given the realities of his generation, he was not careless or indiscriminate. Except for those first few months at college, he had been serially monogamous, and he had always practiced safe sex. However, he had also practiced recreational sex, usually consummating a relationship with a woman within a month of starting to date her. Before this year, the three months between breaking off things with Gillian two summers ago and the next girl in his life had been the longest celibate period in his life since his first foray in the back seat of his uncle Ned’s Altima when he was seventeen. So when he saw his father’s face, Derrick was afraid that his body would react in the same way his father’s body was reacting.

Derrick had just decided to accidently drop his paint brush in order to call attention to himself when his parents apparently realized that there was someone else in the dining room and broke away from each other, each face with a smile that was part amusement, part shared secrecy, and just a small part embarrassment.

“ _Thank Them!” Danny exclaimed. “I was just about ready to try to knock over the paint can.”_

“ _Not on that hardwood floor!” Alicia had no compunction about taking a swat at Danny’s butt. “Let’s go swimming!”_

_The two of them flew over to Aquarius._

By 4:30, everything that required painting had been giving one coat. Derrick, Paddy, and Jasmine walked Brittany home.

Paddy was glad that Brittany was gone.

When Mama and Papa first told them that Brittany was going to “be in charge” while the two of them and Derrick were working, Paddy complained that he wasn’t a baby and didn’t need a baby sitter. Then Derrick took him aside and said that the very act of carrying on like that would make Mama and Papa think that Paddy did indeed need a baby sitter. Instead of making a fuss, Paddy should just stay out of trouble and volunteer to make sure that Jasmine didn’t come into the dining room and try to “help” paint.

So Paddy did as Derrick suggested even though it kind of hurt that Mama and Papa thought he was still a little kid. It was one thing to listen to Mama and Papa, or to other grown ups, but Brittany wasn’t much bigger than he was.

After supper, Derrick went over to the city.

Thursday, when Derrick had called Brad Owens to see if his old coworker from Milligan, Landry would have time to meet for a drink, Brad told him that Barry Demos’ wife was throwing a surprise birthday party for Barry on Saturday night; five minutes later, Sydney Demos called to personally invite Derrick to the event.

Paul had grilled hamburgers for supper, taking advantage of the beautiful October evening. Then they watched the latest Disney rerelease (“Lady and the Tramp”) with the kids.

At 9:15, CJ walked into the study and ran her hand down the back of Paul’s head.

“Well, the kids are asleep, even Paddy, and I think I’m about to follow them. It’s been a busy day and we have a busy morning tomorrow.”

By the time they had finished painting, there had been no time to get cleaned up and ready for church that evening, so they planned to go to 8:00 Mass and then to the 11:00 services at which Paul would be preaching.

Paul reached behind his head, grabbed her hand, and brought it to his lips.

“I’m just doing a final read through,” he said, smiling up at her. “I won’t be long.” The unspoken message was please wait up for me, sweetheart. Her smile was her unspoken assent.

Fifteen minutes later, having locked up and having left a light for Derrick, Paul entered his bedroom.

CJ was sitting in the easy chair, leafing through a magazine. She was wearing the negligee he had given her that first Christmas.

“You’re beautiful,” Paul whispered as he went into the bathroom.

Five minutes later, when he came back into the bedroom, the light was off and CJ was standing by the window in the moonlight, her back to him. As he approached her, Paul noticed the drape of the bluish tinged forest green silk over her hips and once again mused about the sexuality embodied in a woman’s posterior.

Ever since that first time in December of ’14, whenever he and CJ were in the company of Toby Ziegler, Paul felt the need to reaffirm that CJ was **his** wife, **his** woman, and the way he asserted that fact was to drape an arm across the top of her buttocks, resting his hand on her hip. In anyone else’s presence, the arm would be at her waist or her shoulders; in anyone else’s presence, he did not feel the need to proclaim the relationship.

Paul walked up behind her and put his hands on CJ’s hips, as he had wanted to do earlier in the day. She moved back against him and the silk felt good on his body; he had not bothered with pajama pants and was nude.

CJ sighed as Paul’s mouth moved over her left shoulder. She turned to face him and, draping her arms around his neck, kissed his mouth.

Paul returned the kiss deeply. His left hand held the back of her head in place as his right hand moved over her bottom. Then, he knelt slightly, lowered his right arm to just above her knees, and carried her to their bed.

The desires of earlier in the day were finally assuaged.

**Sunday Morning; 6:30 AM**

The alarm sounded and Paul reached over to silence it. He turned in the other direction, preparing, as he did every morning, to kiss his wife, wish her a good morning, and tell her that he loved her.

He stopped at the pain in her eyes, recognizing the sign of the headaches that came upon her two or three times a year. (All the tests had come back negative. There were pills she could take, mostly to sedate her for the five or six hours needed for the pain to diminish. Other than that, she just needed to lie still, in silent darkness.)

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry! Did you take your medicine?”

“It hurts too much to move.”

Paul slipped out of the bed, being careful not to jar it, went to the bathroom, and came back with the capsules and a glass of water. He lifted her head, held his hand to her lips, and then replaced that hand with the water glass after she mouthed the pills.

“I’ll check back right before I take Paddy and Caitlin to Mass.”

“Don’t have to - ”

Paul interrupted CJ with a very light kiss on her forehead.

“We’ve already had this discussion and I’m not going to repeat it while you’re in such pain.”

About five weeks ago, Paul noticed that one aspect of their life seemed to have regressed to the first weeks of their marriage. No matter the inconvenience, CJ kept insisting on being the one to take Paddy to and from his Sunday morning religious education classes (or going back to pick him up on mornings like this when they went to Mass on Sunday rather than on Saturday evening.)

When he finally got her to discuss it, CJ told Paul that she was having ambivalent feelings about Paddy’s preparation for and eventual reception of First Reconciliation and First Communion.

“This isn’t your everyday mixed marriage, religiously. Your faith isn’t just your religion, it’s your calling, your vocation. It’s who you are, it’s how others identify you. There are times when I’m afraid of emphasizing the differences. Paddy and Caitlin love you so much. I want them to give you the respect and honor you deserve.”

“And you think that the people at Greg’s church, at your church, are going to teach them the opposite?”

“I don’t know. I’ve heard some scare stories.”

“So have I. Mostly from people our age and older.”

Paul then told CJ again what he told her when he asked her to marry him three years ago. He reiterated that in several of those long conversations with Danny, the two of them discussed Danny’s wish that Paul and CJ marry after Danny’s death. Paul told Danny that if that marriage were to take place, that Paddy and Caitlin would remain Danny’s children, no matter how much Paul would come to take them into his heart.

Paul told CJ that he knew Greg, trusted him as a fellow minister, and that he was sure that if anything “unpleasant arose”, that CJ, Greg, and he could handle the situation.

“So, sweetheart, assuming you want to remain a practicing Catholic, I have no problem with Paddy taking these next steps.”

“ _I know I was away from the church for a long time,” Danny told Abbey Bartlet, “but I came back, and it became important to me again, especially at the end. I know that the kids will have to choose for themselves when they get older, but I want them brought up in the faith. I especially want them to have the fun things – First Communion, May Crownings, ashes and palms, picking out a Confirmation name.”_

But Paul did not tell CJ everything about one particular time that Danny and he were talking about what Danny wanted for the future. It was a particularly intense discussion, with Danny insisting that he needed to know that Paul would take care of CJ and the children and Paul insisting that he would not undertake a marriage of convenience.

“Paul, can you honestly tell me that you don’t love her?”

“Of course I love her, and she loves me. What I don’t know is if I will come to love her the way a man should love his wife, or if she will come to love me the way a woman should love her husband, the way she loves you.”

Then Paul took a breath, in preparation for the blunt words he would be saying. (Forgive me, Lissy, but I have to do this.) “But, Danny, do you really know for what you are wishing? Because, as I’ve said, if we are to marry, the children will always be Concannons, will be raised Catholic, will always know that you are their father. But if CJ and I do find ourselves loving each other in a way that demands matrimony, she will be my wife and I will be her husband. We will honor the memory of you and Alicia for the rest of our lives, but if and when I take CJ to my bed, in that respect, it will be as if you and Alicia never existed.”

“ _That hurt so much, at first,” Alicia said._

_Jem nodded in agreement. He had felt the same way the first time that Brianna and Hugh were intimate._

Danny blanched, but told Paul he understood what the minister was saying. He hadn’t wanted company when he was making love with CJ, be it John Hoynes, Toby Ziegler, or Brianna MacDonald Ogilvie Stewart.

“So I think I’ll be able to accept that, and if your Alicia is the woman I think she must have been, I’m sure she will too.

Paul had no idea at the time what his next words would mean. (“Maybe, when you get to heaven, you could look out for my Lissy for me.”) But with that visit from Alicia and Danny on that night in Calistoga almost three years ago, Paul knew that Danny and Alicia were having some sort of relationship in heaven, that, in some mysterious way, Danny, the twins who had died at birth, Alicia, and the two babies she had miscarried, were paralleling in heaven the life that CJ and Paul had made on earth. Danny and Alicia told him that, when the time came, God would explain all. Since Paul had told his parishioners the same thing for so many years, he had to believe it himself.

And, except for one or two times, (the time he spoke Alicia’s name, the time he wondered about the “issues” CJ had with sex right after Paddy’s birth), when he and CJ made love, it was as if it were a seamless continuation of those eighteen glorious months so many years ago.

So, on this October morning, Paul would dress and feed Danny’s children and take them to Danny’s church.

After showering, shaving, and getting dressed (except for dress shirt, tie, and suit jacket, of course,) he softly entered Paddy’s room and gently roused the boy, whispering that they should try not to wake up Derrick, who was out late. Paul noticed that CJ had thoughtfully laid out clothing for Paddy the night before, so he picked up the things and told Paddy to dress in the bathroom after washing up and brushing his teeth.

Ten minutes later, Paddy walked into the kitchen and saw his Papa, a big chef’s apron protecting his clothes, putting two slices of French toast and three slices of bacon on a plate.

“Eat your breakfast while I get Caitlin ready,” Paul told the child. “Be sure to drink all your juice.”

Paul had decided that he would leave Dansha home (two children were more than enough for him to handle by himself and, after all, Dansha was his daughter, not Danny’s), so when he entered the girls’ room, he woke only the little redhead and only picked up the one pile of clothing.

Right before it was time to leave for Mass, Paul carried Dansha into Paddy’s room and set her in Paddy’s bed. Then he woke Derrick and explained the situation to him. “She can’t open the door and she has her doll with her, so go back to sleep for an hour or so. You should have time to get ready if you sleep until Caitlin and I get back.”

“Dad, you should have wakened me earlier. I could have taken the kids to church.”

“You’ve already done more than enough, son.”

After the Mass, Paul walked Paddy over to the room where his First Communion class was meeting, and told the child (and his teacher) that Derrick would be picking him up at 10:15 (after Derrick had dropped off Paul at his church), then returned home with Caitlin.

Derrick was already up, feeding Dansha and himself. After Paul checked in on CJ (mercifully sleeping) and switched into his clerical shirt and collar, Derrick got ready for church and then played pat-a-cake with Caitlin while Paul got Dansha ready.

The rest of the morning went by seamlessly. Derrick and the children were in the “minister’s pew” a good fifteen minutes before the start of the service. Paul’s sermon was well-received, with laughter at the jokes and nods of understanding at the salient points. The hymns were sung, not flawlessly, but very well, and, more importantly, with fervor. As Paul greeted his parishioners afterward, everyone asked about CJ and commented about how well-behaved the children were. (“Well, it took me a while, but I finally got Derrick in hand,” Paul joked.)

By the time they got home and Paul checked on CJ (still sleeping, but she did stir when he kissed her forehead), it was time for him to drive over to San Francisco and meet Aisling’s flight. Again, Derrick offered to handle the task, but Paul just asked him to feed the kids.

Five minutes after Paul left, CJ woke up and declared herself cured, so she took over with the children. Derrick changed into his grungies and started putting on the second coat of paint in the dining room.

At SFO, Paul waited for Aisling in the international arrivals area. He spotted her through the Plexiglas. Danny’s niece was another feminine version of him, although the actual resemblance was not as striking as that of Caitlin’s. As he recalled, Aisling’s eyes were green, not blue, but other than that, he had a pretty good idea of what Caitlin would look like some twenty years from now.

After exchanging hugs, Paul took the handle of Aisling’s suitcase and they walked to the parking lot. She told him that they would need to stop at the Westin just south of the airport; she needed to get something from the flight crew. Paul was mystified – why didn’t she take care of this when deboarding the plane? – but he followed the directions Aisling had been given.

Fifteen minutes later, they were on Route 101 heading north toward the Bay Bridge and home, the three bottles of pot-still whiskey that the crew had obligingly carried in for Aisling duty-free (in addition to her free bottle and the others on which she had paid duty) resting beside her baggage in the back of the car.

Fifty minutes later, Paul and Ash were in the Reeves’ family room and the children were greeting their cousin with the eternal question.

“What did you bring me?”

“Padraic Talmadge Concannon!”

Laughing, Aisling reached into her carryon and handed Paddy a St. Andrews rugby shirt. For Caitlin and Dansha, she had sterling silver hair barrettes in an eternal knot pattern.

“And for the three of you, I have more grownup presents,” Danny’s niece told the adults.

“Which we deeply appreciate,” Derrick said as he reached in to kiss her cheek, carefully keeping his paint smudged clothing from touching her. “Excuse me, I’m going to change. Dad, I think two coats are enough.” Derrick left the room.

“We’re always glad to see you, Aisling, whether or not you come bearing that marvelous elixir you excel at crafting, but I echo my son’s comments,” Paul told her.

There’s something different about Ash, CJ thought to herself as she watched the scene. Then Aisling reached up to brush her hair away from the side of her face and the sunlight flashed off her left hand.

CJ had seen the ring once before, on her first honeymoon with Danny. It was their second day in the little village where the MacDonald distillery was located. She was sitting in the garden talking with Brianna and the sun flashed off the striking sapphire ring on Brianna’s right hand as Danny’s first romance poured tea for Danny’s bride.

“What a beautiful ring!” CJ had exclaimed. “It’s obviously an heirloom piece. Do you know how old it is?”

“About three hundred years,” Brianna had answered. “It’s the Stewart family engagement ring. I switched it to my right hand when we were married because it doesn’t really line up against a wedding band.”

“Aisling?” CJ took the young woman’s hand in hers. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

_Danny and Brianna stood arm in arm._

“ _My son and your niece,” Brianna said as she dabbed at her eyes. Was she really tearing up?_

“ _Things have a way of coming ‘round for us Celts, don’t they?” Danny responded. Ash had always been special to him and he was glad that she was going to marry a good man._

“ _They aren’t too close?” Delores Landingham asked, handing around a plate of cookies._

“ _Second cousins, once removed. They’re distant enough,” Hugh answered. He too was happy with the young woman his son would be marrying and with whom, please Them, he would carry on the Stewart line._

“Yes, it does,” Aisling answered. She was immediately wrapped in a big hug from her aunt. When CJ let go, Paul followed suit.

“Tell us all about it!” CJ exclaimed.

“All about what?” Derrick came back into the room.

“Ash is engaged. To Jamie Stewart,” CJ explained.

“How wonderful!” This time Derrick pulled Aisling into a huge bear hug and twirled her around in a circle.

“Here we go.”

Paul had slipped into the kitchen and now came back carrying a tray with four flutes of champagne (and three glasses with ginger ale and a splash of the bubbling wine).

After toasting the engagement, they sat and sipped as Ash told them about the proposal and the plans for the wedding.

“Last weekend, Jamie told me he had to leave St. Andrew’s for a few days. I didn’t know that he flew over to Shannon to ask my father for my hand. Then, we went out to supper on Tuesday.

“At first, he was very off-hand about it. ‘ I dinna want ye over there at Berkeley wi’ all those wild Yanks thinkin’ dirty thoughts about ye and tryin’ dirtier deeds, especially that wicked kissin’ cousin that’s son ta yer aunt’s new husband (Aisling flashed a bright smile in Derrick’s direction) ‘so why don’t ye tak this and wear it.’ Then he opened his palm and showed me the ring.

“I just looked at him. Then he got real serious, told me that he couldn’t imagine living the rest of his life without me, promised to try to be the best husband ever, ‘or die trying’, and then got down on one knee, teared up, and whispered ‘please’. And I said yes,” Aisling finished, her eyes shining in memory.

The wedding would be next summer, August 3rd, and she wanted all of them to come over for the ceremony and the days before and after that Thursday. Between the MacDonald’s and the Stewarts, the ceremony would be filled with lots of pageantry and history, but there would be lots of things going on July 29th through August 7th. She definitely wanted the three children in the wedding party (CJ told Aisling that she thought Dansha would be too young, “especially since it’s going to be such a huge affair”, but the experience that Paddy and Caitlin gained at Deborah’s wedding stand the two of them in good stead.)

After a late afternoon meal of grilled halibut, salad, and corn on the cob, CJ took Caitlin and Dansha for baths and reading before bedtime. Paul and Paddy went to the study, where the minister helped the young boy with his spelling words and his math homework. (“I’m a big kid now, Aisling, I’m in second grade. I have to do homework.”)

Derrick and Aisling were sitting on the front porch in the waning sunlight, a firepit and sweaters keeping the slight chill from driving them inside. They were sipping glasses of the MacDonald cordial (the last of the current supply, not one of the bottles Ash had brought over with her.)

“I’m really happy for you, Aisling. I’ve been looking for the right woman for me, so far with no success. Of course, it’s only been since January, and my father tells me to be patient, to trust in God. But sometimes I wonder where and when I’ll find her.”

Aisling turned to face the young man her Jamie called her kissing cousin. Derrick thought, like his father did earlier in the day, this is what the future holds for Caitlin, except for the eyes. Caitlin’s are blue, but Aisling’s are green – wait, they seem to be turning grey, I can sort of see through them.

Aisling smiled at the young man frozen in time.

“Ah, Derrick, never fear. Your one true love is out there. Soon and very soon, you will meet her. By this time next year, you will have asked her to marry you, although she will not have accepted at that time. By this time in two years, not only will you have married her, but she will be carrying – but that’s for later.

“Now, you won’t remember any of this, but you will be at ease.”

Aisling’s eyes returned to their normal emerald color and Derrick shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I seemed to have drifted off for a second. You were saying?”

“That your father is a very wise man; I would heed his advice and counsel if I were you.

“The jet lag is really catching up with me and I have to be on campus by 7:00 tomorrow morning, and with the dinner meeting, I’ll be there until at least 8:30 in the evening, so I’ll say goodnight and farewell now. Travel safely tomorrow and remember, I want you in Scotland next August!”

She kissed the young lawyer’s cheek and walked into the house and the living room turned guest room.

**Monday, October 24; 7:20 AM**

“Derrick!”

Derrick slowly let go of the dream he was having. It was a very nice dream. He was dancing with someone in a strapless white dress. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew that she was beautiful, and, more important, that she had a beautiful soul. There was a bed in the distance, and candlelight.

“Derrick! Wake up! I want you to take me to school!”

Paddy’s voice obliterated the last vestiges of the dream and Derrick opened his eyes to see his little brother staring at him.

“Take me to school! Please? I won’t be here when you go back to San Luis Obispo. We’re going on a field trip to Stanford this afternoon!”

Derrick sat up and stretched.

“Okay, buddy. When do you have to be at school?”

“In a half-hour; it’s a ten minute drive.”

Okay, Derrick figured, a quick shower, skip the shave, grab a cup of coffee. There were disadvantages to being idolized by a seven year old, but they were vastly outweighed by the ego boost.

Forty minutes later, after having dropped off Paddy at school (“Take care of our sisters, buddy. I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”), Derrick returned to his parents’ house. He helped his father put the rug and furniture back in the dining room and then lay down for a nap before lunch and leaving for home.

**12:45 PM; just after lunch**

Derrick came out of the bedroom he shared with Paddy, carrying a garment bag and a duffel. As he stepped into the kitchen, he heard CJ talking to the little girls.

“Now let’s get your hands washed. When Papa gets out of the bathroom, he’s gonna take you to playschool for the afternoon. Won’t that be fun?”

“I thought Dad and you both had Mondays off this semester.”

“We do. We figured that since Paddy wouldn’t be back from Palo Alto until 6:00,” CJ stopped and turned a pretty shade of pink.

Derrick walked toward the powder room in the hallway, reaching it just as Paul exited it.

“Listen, Dad, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t I hang around until Paddy gets back? I don’t mind driving in the dark.”

Derrick saw the disappointment flicker in his father’s eyes and then disappear.

“Son, I’d feel better if you weren’t driving so late at night -”.

“I was joking, Dad. I know what you have planned for the afternoon.”

Paul let out a sigh and then laughed. “Derrick, some day, a couple of years from now, you and the woman you marry are going to ask CJ and me to take care of your kids for you. I’m going to remember this moment.”

A few minutes later, the three of them (with a little girl in CJ’s and Paul’s arms) walked out of the kitchen. After kisses and hugs all around, Derrick and Paul both drove off.

Twenty-five minutes later, Paul walked into the kitchen.

“Sweetheart?”

“In the dining room.”

She was rearranging some things on the bottom shelf of the credenza.

Paul smiled. The view was the same and the tightening in his jeans was the same as he experienced forty-eight hours ago.

But this time, there was no one else in the house.


End file.
